Previously: Quinn tells Sam that Jenna has dreams of Hell and that demons killed Jenna's brother (who was also Quinn's boyfriend) just a month after Jessica was killed, leaving no doubt in Sam's mind that Jenna is one of YED's psychic kids. Meanwhile, the demons take Jenna away and when they bring her back, she is bruised and shaken but won't talk to Dean.

CHAPTER 5 – Baiting the Trap

Quinn took even less time in the shower than Sam had, coming out of the bathroom wearing the same clothes and with her towel-dried hair pulled into a ponytail. She lifted her jacket off the chair and dug a set of keys from her pocket.

"Anything?" she asked Sam, who was sitting at the table monitoring the police scanner.

He shook his head, his features pulling into a frown. "There should be something by now."

"You're right. Even if nobody's found the bodies inside, that demon I shot hanging onto the car - we left him out in the street."

"Think the demons could have cleaned up?"

She didn't look convinced. "Why would they?"

"Demons kill and leave a wake of collateral damage but they do make an effort to keep their activities off the supernatural radar," Sam explained.

"What, the less people know they exist, the less people find out how to smoke 'em?"

"Exactly."

"Makes sense. Well that's all good news," she stated, heading to the door. "Come on, let's get my car and get Jen's bike outta there before local LEO's get a clue."

Sam raised an eyebrow as he stood up. "Leo's?"

"Law Enforcement Officers," she explained with a slight roll of the eyes. "Geez, Winchester, your jacket says your dad was Marines."

"Well I wasn't exactly in Nam with him," Sam fired back. "We usually just call them cops here in the civilian world." He grabbed his keys off the table but she shook her head at him, her phone already pressed to her ear.

"We'll take a cab," she mouthed before giving the motel's address to the dispatcher on the other end of the line.

A huff escaped Sam at her speaking the suggestion like a command. He may be younger, but he was willing to bet he'd been hunting longer than she had.

"Can you drive a stick?" She tossed him her keys as she hung up the phone.

"Of course," he said indignantly. Since he was eight years old. "Can't you just leave your car there for now? Bigger problems, you know?"

"Demons are looking for you, Sam. I'm sure that classic beast you drive is your pride and joy but she stands out a bit. Let's park her for a while."

He sighed grudgingly. She had a point but he hated parking the Impala. Somehow it felt like a betrayal - Dean would be hyperventilating right about now. "She's my brother's pride and joy, actually," he said quietly, pulling his own jacket on and following her to the door.

Slunk low in the seats, they made the cab drive past the diner a couple of times but there was no sign of anything suspicious. Quinn's car was a block down the street and they disembarked there so she could get Jenna's helmet out of it.

"That's your car?" Sam's eyes widened at the charcoal black Lotus Exige parked under the light post in front of a busy twenty-four hour Buy-More store. He gave her a curious look. "Not exactly what I was expecting."

"What, you figure me for the Prius type, Winchester?"

He chuckled at that image. "More an older model Mustang or Camaro," he admitted, frowning at the tricked out, high-end sports car. "And I didn't know the Army paid that well."

"It was Jason's pride and joy," Quinn said quietly.

Understanding immediately, Sam didn't press further and simply got in, sliding the plush leather bucket seat back as far as it would go to accommodate his long legs. He insisted on driving her right up to the diner so she could get on the bike and get away in seconds, rather than have her walk up exposed. There could still be demons watching the place and they may recognize her. For once, she agreed with no argument and they were back at the motel incident-free less than ten minutes later. Quinn parked the motorcycle out back next to the Impala, hidden from view. She dug around in the tiny trunk of her car for some clean clothes and slipped back into their room to change so they could use the fed-ruse.

As annoying and bossy as his temporary hunting partner could be, Sam nudged aside a couple of dirty thoughts as she strode back across the parking lot towards him in a neat-fitting pant suit. He always did like the Scully look, however adamantly he denied it to his brother. She ushered a reluctant Sam out of her driver's seat and they headed over to the office of the company that owned the white van Dean and Jenna had been taken in.

They were greeted by a pretty but sullen receptionist who leaned in and took a long, careful look at their fake ID's.

"Agents Randy Rhoads and Ullyssa S. Grant?" she sneered, making Sam inwardly curse Dean's insistence on using his classic rock heroes as aliases and wondering why the Hell other hunters insisted on being just as thick-headed and obvious, for Quinn certainly didn't pick her name at random either. Neither hunter flinched at the scrutiny, however, and the receptionist eventually agreed to show them the usage logs of the two vans the company owned.

"This is a realty development company with only three employees," Sam pointed out. "From what I can tell, all you really do is buy and sell properties. What do you need vans for?"

"I'm just the receptionist, Agent. The president and the vice-president like to drive vans, what can I say?"

"And they're…"

"In China on business," she cut him off with an insincere smile as she handed him the logbook. "Will be for two more weeks."

Quinn leaned suddenly over the desk, presumably reaching for a pen, and knocked the bottle of water she had carried in with her all over the unsuspecting woman. "Oops, I'm so sorry," she feigned remorse. "I'm such a clutz."

The holy water hit its mark. No sizzle on bare skin. The hunters took the large log notebook from the incensed receptionist and moved quickly away from the desk.

"Bitch, but not a demon," Quinn murmured, looking disappointed.

"That was subtle," Sam chided.

"Worked, didn't it?"

The book revealed that the van with the licence plate matching what Ash had derived from the grainy bank camera footage had been out of service at a local service garage for the past two days, getting some transmission work done. TM Motors.

Great, yet another weak, flimsy lead.

"We've got all we're gonna get here during business hours," Sam declared. "I think Ash's hunch that this is a dummy company is right. We should ahhh..." He winced and pinched the bridge of his nose as a stabbing pain stabbed him behind the yes. Oh crap – he recognized this feeling... what was coming...

A garage... Sign reads TM Motors...
Dean, next to the hoist, tied to a chair...
A man standing behind his brother, black eyes...
A knife to Dean's throat...
A quick movement, a chortled gasp, a lot of blood...

Dean's lifeless eyes.

~X~X~X~X~X~

It was a few hours before the demons came back to the room. Jenna was finally awake but hadn't said much since apologizing for hogging the bed after her eyes opened to find Dean still sitting on the floor. Bored and rapidly going stir-crazy, Dean was trying to coax her into another round of Black Jack when the door lock clicked free.

He didn't miss the apprehension on her face as the door opened but she didn't get to her feet. Dean did, however, squaring his shoulders to the door and stubbornly preparing for another fight if this was anything but a food delivery.

Lefty appeared, flanked by Righty and a new demon he didn't recognize who, much to Dean's amusement, bore an uncanny resemblance to the dude from the Matrix. Dean quickly dubbed him Keanu and wished for a fleeting second that Sam was here to roll his eyes at the comparison.

"Let's go," Lefty ordered, beckoning Jenna to her feet.

"No way," Dean seethed, stepping between them. "She stays with me."

Lefty snorted. "Not a problem this time, Winchester. You're coming too."

Dean knew this unexpected turn likely didn't bode well for him but couldn't help but feel relief. He'd rather be in trouble out there than stuck in here helpless while these bastards did who-knows-what to Jenna. He debated fighting them again but quickly quashed the notion. He knew it would be futile and he'd just be a fat lip and a busted rib worse off than he was now; plus he needed to get out of this room if he was to have any chance of escaping.

They were ushered down the hallway and into the large staff-quarters living room they had passed through on their way in here. Redhead was standing against the far wall, hands folded across her chest and a sour expression on her face. There was a girl with short, dark hair sitting on the couch watching the big-screen next to the demon the hunter had previously nicknamed DarkSuit. She looked up as they entered, her eyes scanning Dean quickly then resting on Jenna with obvious interest.

DarkSuit flicked the TV off with the remote and got to his feet, gesturing for the girl to get up with him. "Reagan, this is Jenna," he said by way of an oddly polite introduction. "I'm sure you two will get to know each other quite well over the next few months. And this is Dean. He's the one..."

"Months?" Jenna interrupted, shaking her head vigorously. "What do you mean, months?"

"Be quiet," DarkSuit snapped, narrowing his eyes at her. "Remember our little talk about respect, Jenna dear?"

Jenna flinched visibly and Dean's anger boiled, remembering the state she had been in when she was brought back to the room early this morning, both physically and emotionally. He moved a step closer to her, trying to offer her whatever small amount of comfort and reassurance he could with his presence. At least this time she wouldn't be alone if they tried to make her do... well, whatever it was they wanted her to do.

DarkSuit kept right on talking to Reagan, pointing once again at Dean. "This is Sam's brother. Get a good look. I need you to put him in this one. Make it gory. Hurt him." He gave Dean a malicious look. "Better yet, kill him."

Dean tensed.

Lefty snickered. "Don't worry, pussy," he jeered, leaning in close to Dean's ear. "We ain't gonna kill you yet. Just a fake vision of you breathing your last breath to reel your slippery little brother in." His smile got wider. "But once we get our hands on him, I'm gonna enjoy killing you for real."

Dean's heart lurched. Reel in Sammy? A fake vision? Dean stared wild-eyed at Reagan as his mind put the pieces together. "She's the one giving Sam visions?" he rasped.

Reagan looked decidedly unenthusiastic as she ignored the hunter and addressed DarkSuit. "This Sam guy's harder to find than most of us in the freak-squad." Her eyes flitted over to Jenna. "Harder than she was. All I see are tiny flashes of him. That's why I couldn't tell you where he would be last time either, remember?" She threw an almost pleading glance to DarkSuit. "He's tough to break into. Can't we do this another way? You know this guy is hard on me."

"What's hard is my foot up your ass if you don't cooperate," Righty snarled moving threateningly towards Reagan.

RedHead stopped him, stepping forward and splaying an arm in front of his chest. "No need for threats," she said sweetly. "Reagan will do what she's told." She gave Reagan a disingenuous smile. "Right?"

Reagan nodded, clearly nervous but not exactly terrified. She sighed and put two fingers up to each temple, her thumbs on either side of her jaw and her eyes closed.

"Make sure you put TM Motors in there," DarkSuit instructed. "You've seen the photos. We have people there waiting for him."

"Hey, wait!" Dean cried, alarmed. "Don't! Reagan! Whatever you're gonna do to my brother... don't!" He was rewarded with a hard punch in the gut, something he should have seen coming but was too distracted with worry for Sam to think straight. It completely winded him and dropped him to his knees.

Jenna picked up where he left off and Dean was thankful her rant didn't get dealt with quite as swiftly. "Stop it!" she yelled, addressing Reagan. "They're demons! Why are you doing what they say? You're human aren't you? You can't do this! You fucking coward!"

Reagan seemed to be ignoring Jenna, only opening her eyes once to take a long, studious look at Dean, who clenched his teeth in fury, feeling incredibly helpless as he imagined what Sam was about to go through... and how his little brother would charge right into whatever trap the demons were setting for him after seeing Dean die.

It only took half a minute. Reagan let out a burst of breath and her knees wobbled beneath her. DarkSuit stepped forward and clasped her around the waist to steady her, nodding his head in approval. "Good job, dear." The girl was panting and clutching DarkSuit in return for the next minute or two as she steadied herself.

"You coward," Jenna hissed, Righty's large hand wrapped around her bicep to hold her back. "I can't believe you're helping demons!"

Reagan's face grew dark. "You will too, blondie. Get off your high horse."

"No I won't."

Dean was heartened to see some fight in Jenna but knew if he didn't get her out of there soon, she would either give in and do what they wanted or end up badly hurt or worse - dead. Nobody could hold out forever and he was pretty sure demons could get creative in finding ways to convince people.

Reagan simply snorted and tossed her head before turning to DarkSuit. "I did what you wanted..." she said, her tone leading.

DarkSuit nodded and pointed to Lefty. "Take her outside for an hour. She earned it."

Dean watched Reagan and Lefty head towards the stairs on the far side of the room, his fists clenched in silent fury. She'd just sold out his brother for an hour in the yard.

Redhead turned to face the remaining prisoners with a smug grin. "See what being a good girl will get you?"

Jenna stood her ground, her expression adamant. "I'm never going to do it."

"Yes, you will," DarkSuit snapped. "In fact, it's your turn now."

Dean jerked in reaction, tensing up and cursing inwardly at being weaponless, outnumbered, and completely freaking useless. "Leave her alone," he demanded, managing to sound convincingly threatening despite the obvious opposite truth. "Like you said, you'll have Sam soon. Leave Jenna out of it."

DarkSuit gave him an incredulous look. "Apples and oranges, Deano."

With a flick of the wrist, Dean was launched through the air and slammed into the wall behind them. There was a blindingly painful pressure on his chest and the more he struggled, the worse it got. He could barely make out two demons quickly grabbing Jenna's arms and by the time the pressure released and he slumped to the ground, she was gone, her defiant but frightened cries drifting back to him from behind a door on the far side of the room.

Damnit. DarkSuit had the same mojo Yellow-Eyes had. Was DarkSuit in fact Yellow-Eyes? Or did lots of demons have it?

His thoughts were interrupted by Redhead squatting down in front of him. "Time to go back to your room, Deanie-boy," she taunted.

~X~X~X~X~X~

Sam was barely aware he was moving. He had felt a jarring pain shoot up his legs and knew he had dropped to his knees at some point, but couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he had made it back to his feet. His head was spinning and the pounding in his skull was making cognitive thought difficult. He knew he was getting help and at first thought it was Dean, that feeling of reassurance his brother's presence always gave him sweeping through him. Then he heard a voice, Quinn's voice, and remembered Dean wasn't there.

Dean... The vision...

"Get away from him!" he heard Quinn bark, presumably at the receptionist. "Come on, Winchester; you gotta get your legs under you, man!"

His blurry field of view cleared enough for him to make out Quinn waving her pistol in the direction of the receptionist. She had her shoulder tucked under his arm and was half-pushing up, half-dragging him towards the door. He struggled to help, pushing himself upright and staggering in the direction she was tugging.

"Stay the fuck back!" Quinn yelled again, clearly not trusting the receptionist to come any closer. The brightness of the morning sun hit Sam and he could only assume they were outdoors. Next thing he knew, he was being shoved into the passenger side of Quinn's car and the door slammed shut beside him. He planted his hands on the dash and fought to clear his mind.

These visions were getting more and more violent. The one with Jenna and the bike had been a good deal worse than any that had come before it but this one took the cake. Of course, what he had seen in this one made the others look like picnics at the beach...

"Dean," he gasped, hearing rather than seeing Quinn slide herself into the driver's seat. Within seconds the car was moving. With a tremendous amount of willpower, he finally managed to gain some semblance of control over his breathing. "Dean," he repeated, unable to elaborate just yet.

"What the hell was that?" Quinn demanded. He rolled his head sideways to look at her, blinking her into focus. She was driving fast and paying attention to the road and out the back window but kept throwing tense and worried glances his way.

"Vision," he explained, reaching up to wipe the blood from his nose. "I saw Dean. At TM Motors. He's gonna... he's gonna..." He swallowed and forced himself to get the words out. "They're gonna kill him."

Quinn frowned. "Was Jenna there?"

Sam shook his head. "Didn't see her."

"When does this happen? How long do we have?"

"I don't know. It's different every time. But recently it's been giving me less and less notice so probably very soon. We have to hurry."

She pursed her lips. "You're in no shape, Winchester. I'll check it out. You stay back."

"No!" Sam barked, sitting up straighter in his seat and putting every ounce of effort into pulling himself together. "No way."

"But..."

"It's my brother, Quinn."

She glowered at him. "Fine. But you better buck up quick coz I can't carry you in there."

There were a few moments of silence as she punched the name of the garage into her GPS and steered the car in that direction. Biting her lower lip she turned towards him and gave him a lingering look.

"What?" he challenged. "I'll be fine."

"It's not that," she shrugged. "It's just... well, when you told me you had visions that sometimes came true, I thought you had it so much easier than Jenna. That you weren't even close to being in the same boat but... wow."

Sam managed a tired smile. "That bad, huh?"

She grinned. "You look like shit, kid."

"Hey," he protested wearily. "No more 'kid', remember?"

"Sorry," she smirked, reaching out and giving his hair a teasing flick out of his eyes. "It's the bangs. You look young."

He got out a light chuckle before his brow knitted in thought. "Wait, I thought Jenna just had dreams. Why would dreams be so much worse than visions?"

She blew out a loud breath, clearly regretting her slip and internaly struggling with something.

"What aren't you telling me?" he pressed.

"I'm not sure it really matters right now," she deflected.

"Bullcrap. You've gotta trust someone sometime, Quinn. I keep trying to tell my brother that." He pointed to his bloody nose. "I think it's safe to say I'm on Jenna's side," he snapped.

"Alright," she relented. "Jenna started out just having dreams. And don't get me wrong, that was bad enough, but they got worse. She started getting physically hurt in them."

She paused and Sam motioned to keep going. "Was it Yellow-Eyes?"

"No, he wasn't there. At least she never mentioned him. But he's a demon possessing a human, right? The yellow-eye thing might just be a part of that so I don't really know. It wasn't possessed people hurting her, it was actual demons… in Hell. They speak to her, beg her to pull them out. They grab onto her and in her dream she tries to get away, shake them loose but..."

"But what?" Sam blurted, fascinated.

"She wakes up screaming and in pain. She has bruises where they've grabbed her. They're not just dreams."

Sam let the new information soak in. "What does it all mean?"

"I don't know, damnit!" Quinn slammed a hand onto the steering wheel, her frustration at the whole situation bubbling over in an angry display. Sam didn't take any offense, realizing she wasn't yelling at him. He'd seen the same reaction from Dean a thousand times. "I hate this," Quinn continued. "These 'dreams' are getting more frequent and more vivid and... and last month she woke up screaming but this time, black smoke spewed out of her mouth."

"She was possessed?"

Quinn shook her head. "No. That's just it. Not when she went to sleep. She has an anti-possession tattoo and we had the motel room door salted. But when she woke up..." She frowned again and gave Sam a long, hard stare when she came to a stop at a red light. "Look, she may be tied to demons but she's a good person - she's human." There was a pause. "So are you. On both counts."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond but Quinn then proceeded to yell and honk at the driver of a red sedan and the moment was gone. His lips curled into a small smile as he tipped his head back in the way-too-comfortable seat and closed his eyes, waiting for the pounding in his head to subside.

Trapped in heavy rush-hour traffic, it took them another twenty-five minutes to reach TM Motors. Sam was anxious to get there but on the flipside, thankful for the extra time to pull himself together. Quinn pulled the car over in a private spot nearby that was mostly hidden by a dumpster and they got out to arm up.

Sam was worried about their lack of weapons. He'd seen the tiny trunk in this car so he doubted Quinn had enough hunting weaponry to take on multiple demons. They had been lucky at the diner. This morning, he hadn't been expecting to be heading head first into a demon fight but now he was regretting letting Quinn convince him to park the Impala.

She didn't go to the trunk, heading instead to the hood and popping it open. Sam moved around to stand next to her and whistled at what he saw. The front storage space was small but filled to the brim. Instead of weapons being tossed in inside duffels or in a large pile like the Winchester's semi-organized stash, every piece was carefully arranged to maximize the use of the space, like a Tetris game.

"Picked up some packing skills in the Army, huh?" he joked, taking the sawed-off shotgun she handed him.

She laughed. "Car's not exactly ideal for hunting," she admitted, rooting quickly through her supplies.

"Wasn't Jason a hunter?"

"Yeah, but he had a weakness for things that go fast," she said, shaking her head and smiling fondly. "Big frigging kid. Same as his sister and that damn bike."

She handed him a handful of salt rounds and a second flask of holy water. Sam tucked them into his suit jacket, wishing he had brought a change of clothes.

"At least the Lotus has a CD player," he pointed out. "I get to listen to a Metallica cassette tape over and over that has been played so many times it warbles."

"Metallica? I'm more into Pearl Jam and Audioslave myself."

"Really? And here I was starting to think you were actually my brother."

She yanked off her suit jacket and tossed it in the driver's window, followed closely by the blouse she had been wearing for the Fed gig, leaving her in just a black bra for a few seconds before she pulled on a cotton t-shirt. Caught unaware, Sam coughed lightly and quickly looked away, but not before guiltily thinking he had liked what he'd seen. Damn, the woman was fit.

She laughed as she pulled a coat with pockets on over the t-shirt. "What's the matter, never seen breasts before, Winchester?"

"Okay, so not my brother." He tried to joke away the flush rising in his cheeks.

She tucked a third gun into one of her inside pockets and pulled a 50 cal out, frowning at it for a few seconds before putting it almost reluctantly back into the trunk.

Sam rolled his eyes. "But then again..."

She slammed the hood shut. "You ready?"

He nodded, his expression instantly serious. "Yeah, let's do this. Let's go get Dean."

~X~X~X~X~X~

Dean cursed repeatedly as he scraped away at the tile grout, trying not to make any noise. He had managed to swipe a teaspoon during his trip to the living room to model for Reagan, the traitorous vision-bitch. A fucking, dull teaspoon. Their prison-room was at the end of the hallway so it had cement foundation walls on two sides and the window was bricked in. He didn't have Andy Dufresne's twenty years to dig his way out so a hole in the shower stall wall into the end of the hallway was the only viable option. He had to keep it neat just in case demon maid service came in here to change their one measly towel so he hadn't made it very far by the time he heard the door opening.

He dropped everything and hung the towel from the showerhead, covering the hole. A quick flush of the toilet and he walked swiftly back into the room, pretending to button up his jeans. He saw Lefty and Keanu standing just inside the door with suspicious expressions.

He waved his hand in the air in front of his nose. "I wouldn't go in there if I was you," he grinned.

He peered behind them as they both gave him looks of disgust. He was about to make a comment about his certainty that demon-shit stank too but it occurred to him that they didn't have Jenna with them and the thought dissipated. "Where's Jenna?" he demanded.

Lefty stepped forward and grabbed his arm, yanking him towards the door. "Come find out," he growled humorlessly.

Dean obeyed with trepidation, walking ahead of the two demons back down the hallway. "Is she okay?" he ventured, not really expecting a response.

"Better'n you'll be in about two minutes," Lefty sneered.

"Yeah, seems your girlfriend needs a little incentive to cooperate," Keanu added, his voice high and nasally-sounding and nothing like the "I know Kung-Fu" Dean had expected. The hunter almost took back the nickname but worry snatched the thought from him. Incentive? Crap. This wasn't going to end well for him.

They passed through the living room in the direction Jenna had been taken before, through a heavy door and into another large room. This room was empty, with bare walls and an exposed concrete floor that had a large, twenty-foot diameter circle painted on it with some symbols around the edges. Dean didn't recognize any of them and for the hundredth time, wished geek-boy Sam was here to decipher. Righty, DarkSuit, and Redhead were all here also, as well as another demon Dean hadn't seen before.

No, wait, the last demon had his arms pinned by Righty and looked terrified, a 'boo' away from wetting his pants. That was a human.

Then there was Jenna. She was in the middle of the circle, looking haggard and weary, her face streaked with telltale signs of dried tears. Dean swallowed when he caught her eye, hating the frightened look she was giving him. He took a quick step forward towards her but Lefty and Keanu stopped him and speedily strong-armed him down onto his knees.

"Alright, dear," DarkSuit stepped forward, addressing Jenna. "You have the name. Do your thing."

She looked at Dean and then over at the human on the other side of the room. Dean shook his head. "Don't do it," he said defiantly. He didn't know what 'it' was but it obviously wasn't good and hell, it may involve his brother. "Don't you do it, Jen."

He got a kick in the ribs and knew it was just the beginning. A punch in the face came next, splitting his already swollen lip. He spat out blood onto the floor and pushed himself upright again amidst Jenna's pleas to stop hitting him. He smiled at her through his bloody teeth. "Like I said, don't do it."

The next few punches knocked him to the ground again and had him dazed for a few seconds after they stopped. He felt strong hands in his shirt yanking him upright again.

"Do it!" DarkSuit yelled. "Or we keep going!"

He caught Jenna's eye and by the apologetic look she gave him, was sure she was going to give in. He tried to shake his head to tell her not to but she looked directly at DarkSuit. "No," she said firmly. "No."

Dean grinned, tasting the blood in his mouth. "Atta girl," he encouraged, bracing himself for another round of punches and kicks.

But they never came. Instead, DarkSuit held up his arm, gesturing to Lefty. "Fine," he said menacingly. "But I think you misunderstand the situation. See, we don't need him. We only need his brother. If he's no use to us..."

Dean felt a cold, steel muzzle against his temple.

"Kill him," DarkSuit finished with a casual shrug.

Dean's breath caught and the next five seconds were some of the longest in his life. He heard the pistol cocking right next to his ear and felt Lefty's fist clutch tighter in his flannel to make sure he didn't move as the demon squeezed the trigger. Fuck, they were really doing to do it. A few pounding heartbeats went by before he heard Jenna shouting.

"No! No! Wait! I'll do what you want!" she screamed, sounding desperate. "I'll do it, I'll do it. Please don't shoot him."

The gun relaxed against his temple and Dean was able to breathe again. He looked up to see Jenna's terrified face facing his, her eyes wild.

"Okay then," DarkSuit said calmly. "Do it. But one slip-up and we shoot him. You stop, and we shoot him. You give me any more lip, and… well, you get the picture."

Dean wanted to yell at her not to do it but this time his throat just wouldn't let the damning words come out, so he just knelt there, arms pinned and chest heaving. He averted his eyes, dropping them down to the floor in front of him in a rush of shame until she looked away.

Jenna was visibly shaking and she turned to the man being held quietly on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry," she stammered before scrunching her eyes closed and clenching her fists at her sides.

The lights flickered and then dimmed ominously and the demons all fell silent. Dean could feel the excitement and the anticipation in the room, emanating from the demons around him. A sourceless heat tickled his face and the lights shot up to full brightness, the bulb in the wall lamp across the room shattering noisily. More flickering and the man being held in Righty's grasp whimpered.

Jenna finally opened her eyes, gasping, and fell to her knees. DarkSuit stepped right up to the edge of the circle and spoke, his voice low and fierce. "Keep going," he seethed.

"I can't," she panted, looking like she was ready to faint.

"You can and you will."

Dean's head was yanked up from behind and the gun pressed harder to his temple.

"He's too far in," Jenna pleaded, shaking her head, shameful eyes flitting towards Dean.

"Trust me, you can do it," DarkSuit said evenly, suddenly sounding eerily like a father encouraging their kid at little league. "It's what you were meant for."

Dean didn't like the sound of that and decided all over again this wasn't worth it, that he wasn't worth this. "Don't!" he managed, ignoring the gun muzzle now making a red mark in the side of his face.

"Do it or he dies," DarkSuit said sternly.

"Don..ngn." The barrel of the gun was shoved right into his mouth, muffling his protest.

"Shut up," Lefty growled.

Jenna closed her eyes again and within seconds, the lights were flickering again and the hot air was back, this time accompanied by a slight trembling of the entire room around them. Thirty seconds or so were all it took before Jenna was quivering furiously in the middle of the circle, her body starting to spasm. Her head tipped back and Dean watched in shock and horror as a stream of black smoke shot out of her mouth, swirling violently around the room before disappearing down the throat of the panicked man next to Righty.

There was an instant of utter, surreal silence before Jenna let out a weak gasp and slumped boneless towards the ground. DarkSuit lunged forward to catch her head before it cracked on the concrete and lowered it down almost gently before stepping over her to stand in front of the now-possessed man.

Dean couldn't take his eyes off Jenna. She wasn't moving and her eyes were closed. Was she dead? The gun was absently withdrawn from his mouth. "Jen?" he rasped but got no reply.

The possessed man stood up straight, adopting a definite air of authority that hadn't been there before. "What took you so long?" he snarled at DarkSuit, who clearly wasn't the boss anymore.

"Trouble with the asshole's freaks," Darksuit replied by way of explanation, pointing to Jenna.

The new demon nodded, his forehead creasing in concern as he took in the girl on the floor. "She still in commission?"

DarkSuit nodded. "Yeah, she'll live." He gestured to Righty to pick the blonde up. "She's got plenty more pulls in her. It gets easier as they go." He gave Dean a triumphant smirk. "The plan's right on track."

~X~X~X~X~X~

A/N: OK, I threw in a few tiny shout-outs to 'Chuck', 'Shawshank Redemption', and 'Sons of Anarchy' there, not sure if anyone caught them, lol. I think this chapter will have answered a lot of questions but there are a lot more twists and demon plots to come. Also, don't worry, the brothers will be reunited at some point - they won't be apart the entire fic.